All a Dream
by Supper Hot Turk
Summary: Damon finds himself in a stranger situation than any of his previous adventures: a normal life in Fell's Church where he and his friends are going to high school together. No one else remembers their life together in the supernatural, and Damon is left with the question: did it ever even happen?
1. Chapter 1

Damon opened his eyes and found himself lying down outside a large house, his mouth tasting faintly of blood. It was dark outside, and the moon was shining down into his eyes. None of this was unusual to him. He'd been feeding. Now he picked himself off the ground and looked around, getting a bearing on his surroundings.

Fell's Church was a small town, and he recognized the house in front of him to belong to the Gilberts. He grinned. Nothing wrong with paying Elena a little late night visit.

He stretched his limbs quickly before making his way silently across the yard to the tree underneath Elena's window. He climbed it easily, having done it a thousand times before, and slid himself over to the window.

There she was, sleeping soundly in her bed, golden hair spread out across her pillow, looking like young and beautiful princess. He watched her sleep for a minute before leaning over and tapping lightly on the glass.

It took her a moment to wake up, blinking and rubbing her eyes, and finally look up at the window and see Damon. Instead of breaking into a smile like he had expected her to, though, she looked confused.

She opened the window and beckoned him to come in. He obeyed gladly, falling lightly on her familiar bed and smiling charmingly at her. "Evening, princess," he said.

"What are you doing here?" Elena hissed at him, getting up and standing several feet away from the bed.

This annoyed Damon slightly. What did she mean, what was he doing here? Only what he did all the time. He'd been hoping to maybe kiss her a little, maybe sink his fangs into her gorgeous neck and take a long, delicious drink, but for whatever reason she was choosing to be difficult.

"Just coming to see you, darling," he said, moving towards her. She stiffened, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

"What'd you mean, coming to see me, Damon?" Elena demanded, her hands curling into little fists. "It's two o' clock and we have school tomorrow morning."

"School?" Damon said. "What are you talking about?"

She wasn't– she was going to college. Maybe that's what she meant. He told himself that was what it was but then that didn't fit– she was here in her house in Fell's Church. Not on the Dalcrest campus. But– why? And why was he here? He'd been feeding, he remembered. On a girl with strawberry blond hair, named Georgia. She'd been good. But he couldn't make get the details before that exactly straight.

"What'd you mean, what am I talking about?" Elena said. "You, know, _school._ The place we go every day to get educated. What do you think you're doing just showing up at my window in the middle of the night? Are you drunk?"

"Not in the way you think," Damon said, thinking about Georgia's heady blood.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know," Damon said, glaring, now totally confused and pissed off at her. What was she doing playing dumb? She knew fully well what he expected when he came to her, and she knew fully well that she was failing to deliver on every level.

He walked closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Listen, Elena," he said, "I don't know what's gotten into you right now but I need you to cut it out. Seriously. And just let me…."

He leaned in to kiss her but she jerked away.

"What are you doing!" she whispered furiously. "Damon, I told you a month ago, we're done, we're finished. There's no more you and me. I'm with Stefan and I'm not going to cheat on him with his brother. I thought you understood."

Damon stared at her.

"What?" he said finally. "What are you talking about? Do you think you can just trick me into believing some cock and bull story like that? We never had that talk, Elena."

"Yes we did!" Elena said forcefully. "And you've been fine with it for a month. I don't know what you've been doing, Damon, but you need to go home now and get your head cleared up because I can't deal with this right now–"

"Elena," Damon said. "You can't do this to me. I'm not going to be tricked. I'm glad you love Stefan and don't want to hurt him; you only tell me that a thousand times a day. Well, I'll tell you: it's too late now, the damage is already done. He knows about everything that happened between us over the years, he'd be even more of a fool than he already is if he didn't. Only an idiot wouldn't realize what had happened in the Dark Dimension was special, and you can deny–"

"What," Elena said, here eyes wider than ever and looking right at him with an unusual fear, "is the Dark Dimension?"

"Elena," Damon said, suddenly concerned for her. Something had happened– Elena was suffering from amnesia– he needed to help her. "Elena, look at me." She already was, but now her eyes met his with a startling intensity. "Are you feeling alright, darling?" he asked her, leaning in again towards her lips. He couldn't resist himself any longer and kissed her, consumed with the fiery, burning love that they always shared.

And for a moment, she kissed him back, and it was like everything was back to normal. Damon moved his lips down from hers and onto her neck.

And he paused. His fangs– there was something wrong with them, they weren't growing. They needed to elongate. But they weren't working right. Oh well, he thought, he was going to get through this anyway, and he bit her in the same spot as usual to drink.

Two appalling things happened simultaneously: Elena screamed, loudly and shrilly, the noise surely waking her aunt and sister; and Damon realized that his teeth with not dig into her veins. His canines were completely blunt, they barely punctured her skin.

Damon jumped away from her, staring around her room now, confused, wondering what was happening, because if he couldn't drink her blood then something must be off, and he heard the footsteps running towards Elena's door but made no move to get away because he knew he could just use his vampiric speed to escape faster than anyone could see. But could he? He couldn't suck her blood. The thought struck him all too late, and when unfamiliar mad and woman entered Elena's room Damon was only half way to the open window.

"Daddy!" Elena shrieked, running to her father. "Mother."

"What's going on?" the man demanded irately, just as Damon wondered the same thing. Elena's parents were dead! The both of them! Had been since he'd met her! "Who are you?" the man yelled at Damon. "What are you doing in my daughter's room!"

"It's Stefan's brother Damon," Elena told her supposed father. "And I don't know what he's doing in my room but he seems confused and I…" She glanced at Damon cautiously and he stared back at her without emotion while she moved up to her parents and whispered something to them. He couldn't hear it. He didn't know what was happening.

"Why don't you come downstairs?" the man said to Damon carefully when they were done with their private discussion. "We'll call your parents to come take you home–"

"Not his parents," Elena said quickly. "Stefan. His dad wouldn't be happy."

Damon didn't see why they thought his parents were still alive, but hey, they were supposed to be dead too. Maybe it was national Parents Come Back From the Dead day. Damon shuddered at the thought of his father living again. And then there was the fact that Elena was trying to get Stefan to come pick him up. Was she insane? Why couldn't he just leave the way he'd come?

But at the moment he couldn't trust himself– after all, his vampire powers seemed to be turned off completely– so he just nodded and followed Elena and her zombie family downstairs and didn't complain when Elena went to talk to Stefan on the phone in the other room.

They all sat in the kitchen completely silently for several minutes until Stefan came running in, wearing a blue windbreaker and looking sleepy.

"Come on Damon," he said sharply after kissing Elena's hand lightly. "We'll discuss this in the car. Let's go."

As they left Elena called out, "See you tomorrow."

"Bright and early," Stefan replied with a smile.

Damon followed Stefan outside, but didn't get in the car. Instead, he turned and walked away, down the dark street, silent and brooding, trying to think through what was going on.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Stefan said, apparently not aware that Damon was in no mood to put up with this crazy charade. He followed him down the street, even going so far as to grab him by the arm. "Seriously, Damon, we've got to get home or we're going to be dead when we go to school–"

"We already are dead!" Damon snapped out viciously, tearing away from his brother. "Or has everyone somehow forgotten!"

"What?" Stefan said.

"Don't you what me, vampire–" Damon growled, turning around to do something terrible and violent to his brother.

Stefan took a step away from him. "Who's a vampire, Damon? What are you talking about? Did you do drugs or something? Wouldn't be the first time…."

All this made Damon freeze on his way to gouge out Stefan's eyes.

"What to you mean, wouldn't be the first time?" he said.

"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you've done PCP and gone crazy after a long night of partying and, may I remind you, gotten yourself in loads of trouble with not only everyone you know but also Father."

All of a sudden Damon had vague memories of this life, of partying with high schoolers and coming home completely wasted. Getting punched in the face by his father and getting a broken nose.

But–

He had never gone to high school parties to get drunk (he had much classier ways) and would never have had a chance to get punished for it by his father, who was long dead before parties like that even existed.

"I– Stefan, our dad's dead…." Damon said weakly, overwhelmed.

Stefan shook his head. "I don't know what's wrong with you right now," he said to him, "and we've got to get you home."

Damon followed him mutely to the car.


	2. Chapter 2

When Damon woke up the next morning he didn't open his eyes right away. He took a moment to appreciate the soft, warm bed he was lying on. Most of the time he found himself sleeping outside or on the floor, so this bed was a nice improvement. He imagined he must have ended up in Lady Ulma's mansion. Nowhere else could he find a bed like this all to himself. He opened his eyes.

He did a double take. This was not the room he had expected. It was unfamiliar yet at the same time familiar. He recognized the black curtains which were hanging open on the windows. The desk that was across the room from him that was cluttered with textbooks and pencils, photographs. He knew this comforter– he'd bought it just two years ago, sophomore year, when he'd finally gotten sick of the little boy blankets he been using. But– but– two years ago he wasn't in sophomore year of high school, he was in New Orleans, living up the night and feeding on whomever he wished to. It was like he had two alternate sets of memories: one in which he lived a half-life as a vampire, immortal forever; and another where he'd been growing up in Fell's Church as a normal kid.

He rolled out of bed and walked over to the desk to look at the photos on it more closely. He saw pictures of himself, looking younger, with Bonnie and Meredith and Elena and Matt and Stefan and even Caroline. They were smiling– he remembered those photos being taken at the Sulez's pool party last year.

_Don't be crazy_, he told himself, _the Sulez's would never have a pool party, and if they did, I 'd be the last person on their guest list_. They were vampire hunters and incredibly secretive.

Yet here he was, looking at photographic proof.

Or maybe…. Maybe he was right and it had never happened. This had to be the effects of some supernatural attack on him. Trying to confuse him with false memories. It would have to be someone really powerful– like Shinichi or some other monster.

He came to this conclusion just as Stefan entered his room, wearing his pajamas and carrying a platter of human breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast. It was then that Damon realized he was ravenously hungry. Not for that food of course– the very thought of that was repulsive, and he couldn't see what Stefan could possibly be thinking, carrying it to him– but for his regular diet of blood. Georgia last night hadn't been nearly enough.

"Oh, thank God, you're up," Stefan said. "I didn't really want to have to wake you up. How are you feeling? Are you okay? I brought you breakfast."

Damon looked at the eggs and then at Stefan, not even bothering to say anything to that it was so ridiculous.

"Seriously though," Stefan continued, "are you okay? You were pretty… worked up last night. I'm surprised your up in time for school."

"Okay," Damon said bluntly, "cut out the charade now before I get fed up with this and rip out your throat. You can't possibly have succumbed to those false memories."

Stefan's green eyes bulged in a way that Damon thought was extremely unattractive.

"I mean, really," Damon went on, "you think I want this human food? This teenager's bedroom? Great attention may have been paid to detail but really, they can't trick me with all this. Are you saying the same isn't true for you?"

"Uh–" Stefan said. "Are you… Oh my God. You're not making any sense. Seriously. what were you doing last night?"

Damon decided that if he acted like he was actually going to hurt his brother, then Stefan might be triggered into some sort of confession, admitting to their long vampire back story or perhaps some confusion at what was going on and why they were here in Fell's Church. But when he stalked about to him to rip out his throat, Stefan just stared at him dumbly, a look of fear in his eyes– not fear of being caught in a lie, but fear for his brother.

Not _of_, but _for_. This threw Damon off. What if there was actually something wrong with him and not Stefan? He thought of Elena's mystification at the mention of the Dark Dimension. She hadn't known what it was. And Stefan didn't seem to know about them being vampires, which was frightening. But the way Stefan was looking at him right now made him worry, very much, that there was something terribly wrong with him and that maybe… maybe none of what he thought was reality had actually happened.

But that was too disturbing a thought to linger on for long, so instead he decided to just try and explain everything else to Stefan. Maybe if he did, his brother would understand again, and together they'd find a way to solve this problem.

Then he realized what he was thinking. Why would he ever want Stefan's help for something like this? They'd killed each other, for God's sake. They'd fought over Katherine and Elena for years. He'd find someone else to help with this. Or do it himself.

Without another word he pushed past his brother and left the room.

"Damon!" Stefan called out. "Stop it, you have to eat breakfast at least! Get dressed for school!"

"I'm not going to school," Damon threw over his shoulder as he walked down the hall, surprised by how well he knew how to get around this house when he really shouldn't ever have been here in his life.

He was about to go downstairs when suddenly a loud, authoritarian voice froze him in his tracks.

"What do you mean you're not going to school, Damon?" Giuseppe Salvatore said, and Damon stared in horror at his father, who was supposed to be dead.

He had to be dead.


	3. Chapter 3

It was enough to make Damon freeze in his position at the top of the stairs, refusing to turn around and look in the direction of his father's voice.

He didn't sound angry now, not exactly. It was too early for him to be drunk and upset. But Damon knew that his father had the potential to not only beat him to a pulp physically, but also to rip Damon to shreds with words. Verbal and physical abuse had been the most prominent part of Damon's childhood in Italy, a childhood which he was apparently now being forced to relive.

The modern house suddenly seemed to become the old sitting room in Florence where Damon had endured horrible things, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying not relive the memories.

But there was something very strange about those memories. He remembered them in Florence perfectly, could picture the dim lighting and expensive paintings– but at the same time there were duplicates of the memories, similar arguments taking place here, in this house in Fell's Church.

"Answer my question, son," his father said again.

Damon forced himself to make his face blank, free of the fear and hatred he felt for his father, and turned around. "I meant what I said, Father. I'm not going to school today."

"And why not? Is this your way of showing me that you don't care about the education I'm paying for you to have?" Giuseppe was starting to get red in the face, so quick to get upset. Damon crossed his arms defensively.

"That's actually not why, Father, but you're right, I don't care that your paying for my education. I don't give a damn."

Maybe he brought it upon himself, but he really wasn't expecting it when his father punched him in the face. He'd been counting on his vampire reflexes to avoid the blow, and, surprise surprise, they weren't there for him to use.

"Do not speak to me like that," his father snarled at him. "You're going to school whatever your reasons." Holding his face, which was going to have a really ugly bruise on it later, Damon was preparing a comeback, but just then Stefan sped into the hall, holding a pile of clothes and two backpacks.

"Yep, we're going to school, Father, and we have to leave now or we're going to be late, come on, Damon." He grabbed Damon's arm and pulled him down the stairs, out the door, and to the car. Damon didn't even bother struggling. It was a convenient exit from a situation that was quickly going to escalate into something ugly.

But as he sat in the passenger seat of Stefan's car he couldn't contain himself much longer. "Listen, Stefan. I know you think that I'm just going to school like a good little boy, but this isn't my life. I don't do high school. And I'm not–"

"We need to talk." Stefan was staring straight ahead at the road, refusing to meet Damon's eyes. "About this sudden 'this isn't my life' business. And about last night."

"What about last night?" Damon growled, daring Stefan to bring it up. Elena's behavior had been infuriating. Different dimension or whatever this was, you'd think Elena could at least still like him.

"You broke into my girlfriend's room. And bit her. In the middle of the night. You realize she's been texting me all morning with questions about you? What kind of drugs were you doing? You called me a vampire."

Damon frowned and decided that he'd just explain everything to Stefan. Maybe it would trigger his memories.

"Stefan, I wasn't on any drugs last night, despite what you and Elena might think."

"Then what's wrong with you!?"

"What's wrong with me is that my entire world has been turned upside down. I'm not the Damon you know and no doubt love. I'm a vampire. And I have been for five hundred years. And this might come as shock to you, but so are you, or at least, my you."

The car stopped suddenly as Stefan slammed on the brakes. He nearly caused a car crash but pressed the gas pedal fast enough to avoid an accident.

"Okay, Damon, listen to yourself, what are you saying–"

"What I'm saying is true and if I need to go over our entire life story before you remember than so be it. We grew up during the Renaissance. But that was hardly an important part of our life, or should I say, death. It all started because of Katherine."

Stefan stopped the car again, but this time at a red light. "What does any of this have to do with Katherine?" he demanded. "You know we both regret it. All of us do. And she's no longer a part of our life."

"Katherine turned us."

"What!?" Stefan yelled. "Turned us into what?"

"Vampires, of course."

By now Stefan's skin was snow white and he pulled into the school parking lot slowly, again refusing to look at Damon.

"You're not going to listen to what I have to say?" Damon said, getting angry.

"No, because it's completely insane, Damon. You are not a vampire. Neither am I. And I don't know what got the idea into your head, but it's not good, and if this is a joke of some sort than you need to stop it, now."

"It's not a joke," Damon said flatly. "It's the truth."

Stefan parked the car and flung open the door, obviously trying to escape. "I put your clothes in the back. You should get dressed so you don't have to walk around school all day in your pajamas." He got out, slamming the door behind him, and sprinted towards the building.

Damon stayed seated inside and sulked. That had not gone as planned. And here he was, at the school, with absolutely nowhere to go because Stefan had taken the car keys with him. As a human, how in the world was he supposed to find out what was going on and stop it? He could hardly run at an appropriate speed, let alone walk.

Grumbling, he grabbed the clothes from the back seat and got out, planning to change inside the building and figure out where to go from there. Unfortunately, on his way inside Robert E. Lee, he was spotted.

"Hey! Damon! Good morning!" Bonnie shrieked at him from across the parking lot, her red curls flying everywhere as she ran over. "Wow. Still in your pajamas? What's up?"

"I got off to a late start this morning," Damon said vaguely, wondering if Elena had told her friend about Damon's supposedly "strange" behavior the night before. It didn't seem like it, because as they walked to the school Bonnie was chattering away about completely mundane, boring human things.

They walked together, chatting about Bonnie's life, until someone else saw them.

It was Elena.

She grabbed Damon's arm and pulled him away, saying only, "We need to talk."


End file.
